


Your Girl

by Old School Jones (SalemDae_45)



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobia, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Pre-Series, Racist Language, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalemDae_45/pseuds/Old%20School%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before there was Tobias Beecher, there was someone else who Chris loved unconditionally. But, he learned the hard way of what happens when you let your guard down in the name of love. The price you pay for not playing the game right. </p>
<p>originally posted on 01/11/2012 at oz-magi.livejournal.com, but written in 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torolulu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torolulu/gifts).



> Request 1:  
> Pairing/Character(s): Chris Keller  
> Keyword/Prompt Phrase: Beecher: “I'm asking you if you've ever felt this way with another man.” Keller: “No. I have not felt this way. I swear, Toby.” Beecher: “You're lying.”  
> Canon/AU/Either: Canon  
> Special Requests: What if Beecher was right? (Any rating and tone is fine with me, and I have no aversions to any type of content.)  
> Story/Art/Either: story

“I need a favor.”

Chris Keller quivered a brow.

  
“You? A favor? I thought you were big bad Vernon Schillinger of the ‘Master Race.’”  
  
Vern maintained his friendly smile as he sat across from Chris. Despite the wrinkles and extra pounds, Vern still looked the same from their last meeting nineteen years ago. How could Chris forget those baby blue eyes and visible blonde hair covering the eyes tattoo?   
  
“Don’t be such a smartass, Keller,” Then Vern turned serious, “Like I was saying: I need a favor from you.”   
  
Chris leaned against the metal seat. He tilted his head to the side, smiling at Vern as if he was one of those crazies in the nuthouse.  
  
“Why should I, Vern?” He mostly purred the question out. He knew it would either tick Vern off or make him hard. He had that effect on his former “friend.”  
  
Vern rubbed his face while his feet tapped on the floor impatiently. Chris’ smile widened.   
  
“I can’t believe this shit. After all those times I protected you from  _those_  people in Lardner and this is what I get? Heh, you should be more thankful.”  
  
“I am. Every single day of my life.”  
  
Vern frowned. He kept his posture straight and hands clapped together like an old, menacing man. He stared directly into Chris’ eyes as if he wanted to possess his soul. Chris pretended it didn’t bother him although the same nervous feelings popped up again.   
  
“That attitude will get you killed.”  
  
“I’ll survive. That’s what you always preached about when were locked up together, hmmm. We’ll do what is necessary to survive in the jungle.”  
  
“Will just shut the fuck up and listen?” Vern asked through his teeth.   
  
Chris leaned forward, “I’m listening.”   
  
Vern sighed.  
  
“I want you to do a favor for me because… you’re the only person I got and… I… need you.”  
  
Chris arched his brow. He never thought Vern would use those words. Maybe he was appealing to his “good” side or wanted to induce those  _other_  feelings. Either way, Chris refused to give in to his shit, not anymore, not again.  
  
“You need me? That’s interesting. So who decided to kill you? You have plenty of en—”  
  
“Chris!” Vern quickly lowered his voice as the guards gave him a “final warning” glare. He regained his composure and returned to his friendly smile. “Please, do this for me, for old time's sake.” Vern laid his hand on Chris’ and rubbed it gently, as it would do the trick.  
  
“In exchange?” Chris focused on the clock. The old fucker knew how to appeal to his  _other_  side.  
  
“Protection.”  
  
“That’s it?”  
  
Vern smiled.  
  
“Unless you want  _more_.”  
  
Chris rolled his eyes.  
  
“What do you want me to do?”  
  
Vern grinned, like the Devil about to trick some old fool for his soul. That’s the Vern Chris knew from back then. He was the sly snake who would do anything to get inside people’s heads and break them.   
  
While listening to Vern, Chris knew he wasn’t about to  _accept_  his offer. Nor was he about to give in to those needs from nineteen years ago, but it was something to think about. History was a bitch, especially if it left an old wound ready to burst.  
  
  


**~†~**

  
  
  
By seventeen, Chris had a record. Now he could add second degree robbery to the list. He almost received five years in prison but the judge was feeling “generous” (and since he was under eighteen at the time), the judge gave him three and he was up for parole in a year.   
  
On the outside, Chris appeared mournful for his actions and wanted to change his evil ways. But, on the inside, Chris didn’t give a shit about the judge, the system, or anyone. Even then, he was a master of manipulation, something he learned from the streets and his old man.  
  
When he entered Lardner State Correctional Facility, Chris knew he wasn’t as manipulative as the others. The prisoners' cold and lustful stares proved that Keller needed more than his wits and cleverness to stay alive for one year, let alone three.  
  
He was roomed with some big fat black guy who already had plans for him when the lights were off. The guy didn’t make his intentions subtle either.   
  
Chris wasn’t anyone’s bitch. He wasn’t about to play wife to some fat black guy whose teeth were more yellow than mustard’s stain.  
  
After spending a night or two sharing a cell with Fat Ass, Chris met his “savior.”  
  
“So how you likin’ Lardner?” Vern asked.  
  
Chris sat on the bleachers. He looked at the other prisoners playing some basketball. He could feel the stares from his cellmate who hung out with his gang. He knew the man would try again tonight and Chris was ready for him. One little touch and—  
  
“Not like the playground at school but it’s alright. Just need to keep my guard up, y’know.” Chris shrugged. One eye open, one eye shut, not letting anyone rub him the wrong way. It was the name of the game. The game he learned from his drunk of a father and the rough streets. He will go by them like the fucking Bible.  
  
Vern laughed as he took a seat next to Chris.   
  
“You’re far away from the playground, kid. You’re in the jungle, a new set of rules and environment. You can’t survive this place with that attitude.”  
  
“Why you say that?”   
  
“You need friends in order to survive here. It only takes a quick glance before someone makes you their prag, their bitch.”  
  
Chris didn’t say a word as he finally looked at his “savior.”   
  
The man wasn’t half bad. He might even say he was gorgeous as fuck. Vern was clean-shaven, had baby blue eyes (that were even brighter under the sun than behind the prison’s walls), and solid muscles that showed against the fitted white beater.   
  
Chris pretended to stare at his fingernails.  
  
“I can handle it,” Chris answered.  
  
“I see you’re having trouble with your cellmate.” Vern looked at Chris’ cellmate and his crew.  
  
Chris shrugged as if there was a bug on his collar.  
  
“It’s all good. Didn’t know everyone knows everyone’s business.”  
  
“This is all we have to do,” Vern chuckled, “But I noticed the way he looks at you, like you are some piece of meat or something.”  
  
“Like I said, I can handle it.”  
  
“Really?”   
  
Chris looked at him hard, feeling his teeth grinding against each other.  
  
“Get to the point, motherfucker.”  
  
Vern leaned against the bleachers, hands behind his head.  
  
“You don’t need those niggers coming after you, especially your cellmate. When they see someone like you, they have to sample it. You are then left as garbage. And since you have no alliances, you will easily become their bitch.”  
  
“So if I let you protect me, then I won’t become someone’s bitch? Is that right?” Chris sarcastically asked.   
  
Vern laughed.  
  
“You are very straight to the point,” Vern wrapped an arm around Chris’ shoulder. “Trust me, you need to know someone to survive in this dog-eat-dog place.”  
  
Vern was full of shit, but he had a point.  
  
“Hmm… let me think about it. No, not buying it. Hell, you might be worse than Fatso over there. I can handle it.”   
  
Vern didn’t look surprised or mad; instead he looked satisfied, as if Chris made the  _right_  choice.  
  
“Whatcher name, kid?”   
  
“Chris.”  
  
“Well, Chris, the offer still stands. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” With that, Vern left. He walked towards his gang of Nazi freaks while Chris let his crazy shit sink in.  
  
Chris didn’t want to owe anyone. If it meant he had to suck it up and deal with Fatso, he'd do it. He could protect himself, like he did so many times before he landed in Lardner.   
  
He sensed Vern looking at him from across the court yard. Chris pretended it didn’t faze him, but deep inside, it did. He felt vulnerable, exposed by the other man. Something he didn’t like to feel so often. Vulnerability was for pussies.  
  
The next couple of nights, Fatso tried to get too friendly with Chris. Each time the guards saved him from a close call. Each time Vern stared at him, waiting for Chris to crack.   
  
Chris wasn’t about to give in and he did everything he could to defend himself, like using his homemade knife to cut Fatso across his face, leaving a huge, deep scar. They sent Fatso to the hole while Chris avoided it, claiming self-defense.   
  
The black gang stared at Chris, giving him subtle warnings. Chris knew then he fucked up. Maybe he wasn’t as bad and wise as he last thought.   
  
The final straw was when he got jumped in the showers. He survived but he was in the infirmary for two weeks. He couldn’t handle it alone anymore.   
  
So he met Vern at the bleachers again.  
  
“As long as you get them off my back, I’m all yours,” Chris said, trying to keep his tough façade.   
  
Vern laughed.  
  
“Don’t worry, kid,” Vern smirked, “I already have it covered.”  
  
The big fat black guy was found dead in the hole. The black gang was no longer on his back. And Vern became his new cellmate.  
  
  


**~†~**

  
  
  
The first night with Vern went uneventful. Well, he snored loudly, but it didn’t end with Chris trying to protect himself.   
  
The second, third, fourth, and other nights went the same. Vern would sometimes read books, from Mark Twain to Victor Hugo (Vern didn't like Hugo’s books, but it kept him busy). Then he would go to bed and snore like mad hell. Chris knew he needed to trade some cigarettes for ear plugs.  
  
All the while Vern talked.   
  
He talked about his family and how much he loved his wife, Arlene (Chris was already sick of her when Vern described their “intimate” moments), his two sons, and his beliefs. Vern’s father, who he hated more than blacks and Jews, taught him everything he needed to know to survive. Chris, for the most part, rolled his eyes which earned him plenty of books being thrown his way.  
  
As days turned into weeks and then months, Vern shared more things Chris didn’t care to know. He didn’t give a shit about his “perfect” life, his “perfect” wife, and his “perfect” children. If he loved them so damn much than why he was in prison all the damn time?   
  
Vern would say he was protecting his land like any other white citizen from the  _them_. Chris called it bullshit.  
  
He was always at Vern’s side, watching him order others around or “tormenting” different prags for a week or so. Sometimes he watched Vern taunt the other gangs in the prison and made alliances with others. He wasn’t the leader of the Aryans but he looked like he could have been, since everyone was afraid of him.   
  
Don’t get him wrong, Chris wasn’t an Aryan; he was under their protection. And he wasn’t a prag, he wasn’t branded or forced to wear makeup. Although, Vern claimed it could change when Chris “stepped outta his place."   
  
Chris wasn’t a fool. He knew when to keep quiet and follow directions. He hated it, but he had no choice.   
  
Though, deep inside, Chris started to like Vern despite him not shutting the fuck up after lights off. There were parts of the man he admired. He liked his leadership, the ability to take charge and how he ensured fear in other people. Vern commanded attention and respect and whoever stepped out of line would regret it.  
  
Chris knew it firsthand when a Jewish guy tried to threaten Vern after he mocked him. Vern showed him who was in charge by torturing the guy, leaving stab marks all over his body. Chris saw the monstrous grin on Vern’s face, which gave him nightmares all night.   
  
“This is our land and you  _will_  know your place.” Vern stabbed him like a madman. He sliced each part of the guy’s body and seemed to increase in speed if the guy pleaded for his life.   
  
Chris forced himself to watch Vern. The same Vern who smiled genuinely, almost humanly, and talked about missing his wife.   
  
It still surprised Chris how much Vern changed after the torture. After he wiped the blood from his knife, he was back to normal, even wrapping his arm around Chris’ shoulder, a weird form of a hug. As much as he was surprised, he would rather be on Vern’s good side than bad side.  
  
The guards found the guy’s body and tried to pin it on the Aryans, especially Vern. There was no evidence left and they had no choice but to drop it. Besides, the guy didn’t have any family, no alliances, nothing. He was a loner, a reminder of what Chris  _would_  have become if he hadn't joined Vern. So he should be thanking God he went with the right decision.   
  
And Chris almost felt right about it.  
  
_Almost_.  
  
  


**~†~**

  
  
  
Then, there was the sex.  
  
The first time Vern fucked him was three days before his birthday. Chris had been in prison for three months and it felt like forever in his opinion.  
  
It was the perfect time for Vern to initiate Chris into the jungle.  
  
And Chris knew. He wasn’t some naïve virgin or anything. He had seen those prison rape videos. Men who made deals to be protected had to give up their ass, literally. Chris thought he wouldn’t be one of them. He did the fucking, not the other way around. That way he didn’t have to confirm those feelings that always existed since he was a kid. Vern disapproved of those feelings and called anyone a “fag” if they acted them out.  
  
Chris wasn’t a fag… he just like men on occasion. Vern just so happened to be that man on occasion which made the experience worse.  
  
It happened so fast, without any warning. He remembered that Vern stood behind him and gripped his neck to the side. His lips touched the crook of Chris' neck and he sucked on it before biting it roughly. Chris struggled, trying to get the fucker off him but Vern pinned both of his arms behind his back. Chris knew then, he was gonna lose.  
  
Vern’s hand ran under his shirt, twitching his nipples before going down his pants. He gripped his dick tightly which made Chris hiss. Yep, he knew it would happen and he shouldn’t have been surprised.   
  
“It’s time you repay for the protection, kid.” Vern licked his neck until he reached Chris' earlobe and tugged it.  
  
Soon Chris found himself pinned to the bed, lying on his stomach, and hearing Vern grunting above him. The bed wobbled and all Chris could hear was skin slapping and heavy breathing. Vern’s nails dug into his thigh while pushing Chris' ass closer to his dick. Chris gritted his teeth, gripping the covers as the pain ran up his spine until it hit every part of his body. No lube, no warning, and no one could hear him scream in agony.   
  
Chris didn’t want it. He thought he did, but he didn’t. He wasn't gonna lie, he dreamed of the times Vern and him would fuck, without hesitation. Call him a romantic but he wanted Vern in a way that made him sick afterwards.   
  
And it still made him sick as he thought he heard Vern laughing at him. He tried to shut it down and enjoy the numbness.  
  
Chris knew it was over when Vern released his load inside him. He grunted a few more times, holding unto Chris’s waist. Within a minute, Vern collapsed on his back.  
  
Chris remained still and quiet. His ass hurt and his spirit was broken. The worst part was he still wanted Vern. He wanted his smile. His voice. The good part of him.  
  
“Don’t you think you made the right choice?” Vern sounded more narcissistic than concerned.   
  
Chris sighed when Vern pulled him by the hair and whispered it again. This time he sounded more seductive, almost possessive. Chris didn’t know which time he liked although he leaned towards the second time. It was slower and a little tender.  
  
Chris was fucked up.  
  
Vern fucked him one more time until he was passed out for good. The next morning, Vern brushed his teeth while Chris slowly raised his head from the pillow. It still hurt but he hoped throughout the day the pain would lessen.   
  
“I am not a fag, Chris. I know you are but I’m not.”  
  
Chris would have rolled his eyes if the pain didn’t prevent him.  
  
“I’ll do it for survival and you better know that. There is no love between us. It’s just fucking.”  
  
Chris snickered.  
  
“I’ll understand, Vern.” Although, it really did hurt Chris.  
  
  


**~†~**

  
  
  
They fucked almost every night. The only time they didn’t was when Vern had conjugal visits. After his little business was settled, he taunted Chris about being different and he controlled their relationship. Chris was always the fag. Vern was the straight man who had the excuse to fuck men because it was temporary. Chris knew it was bullshit but he went with it.   
  
They still talked, but when it came to intimacy, there was nothing. Just gritty, full force fucking with little to no lube. Vern made sure Chris knew his place once they were alone. Domination was the game between them and Chris allowed Vern to think he had the control. In reality, Chris either faked it or, sick as it sounds, enjoyed it. It was sex. It was an itch he couldn't live without.   
  
But he wanted more: a little gentleness, love, something besides dry fucking.  
  
But with Arlene in the picture (and Vern’s ego), there was nothing he could do. He wouldn’t have Vern’s attention like she did. Chris wouldn’t call himself jealous of Vern’s wife, but she had something he wanted.  
  
“I bet I can give you a better blowjob than your precious wife,” Chris once said. Sometimes Chris would bark without any thought. In his own way, he was taunting Vern too.  
  
Vern punched him in the face. Chris licked some of the blood from lips before Vern told him to wash it off. Afterwards Chris found his lips wrapped around Vern’s cock, as if the conversation never happened.  
  
Vern couldn’t have both and Chris didn’t like that.   
  
About the sixth month after entering Lardner, Chris started a sexual relationship of his own. He fucked a guy named Aaron, who was a loner, much like Chris. He had no alliances which meant the black gang would not go after the Aryans. Chris didn’t care about Aaron as he was a toy, a plaything. There was no love, no gentleness, nothing. He had the poor soul wrapped around his finger. He wasn’t bright as hell and Chris took what he wanted from him. It was wrong, but that’s how the game worked.  
  
He kept their relationship a secret for two months. Two long months of thinking of Vern while fucking Aaron. If he wasn’t going to get what he needed from a man he wanted, he might as well find someone else who would. It seemed to work until one of Vern’s Aryan buddies noticed Chris disappearing during free time. Chris didn’t pay attention to those fucks, he wasn’t a part of them.   
  
He should have paid attention to them.  
  
Then he wouldn’t have seen a pissed off Vern walking towards him. His expression was chaotic, murderous.  
  
“You fucked that nigger behind my back! You little son of a bitch!” Vern punched him dead in the mouth.  
  
Chris should have hit him back, instead of laughing in his face. It caused the whole court yard to stop what they were doing and stare at them. Vern’s eyes moved frantically, noticing the stares at him. Chris knew then, this was not over after the arguing was done.   
  
Vern gripped his shirt and pulled Chris close to his face.  
  
“Give me a good reason not to fuckin’ kill you.”  
  
“It’s a jungle out there, Vern. I did what I had to do to survive. I needed somethin’ to do when you’re away.”  
  
“And you decided to fuck one of them, huh? You are useless, fag,” Vern smirked.  
  
“What are you, then? You’re so devoted to your darlin’ Arlene that you fuck me at night.” Chris sneered.  
  
Vern gripped the shirt tightly, his knuckles turned white as a ghost.  
  
“You needed protection. I needed a release. I think of Arlene while fuckin’ you.”  
  
“Oh really?”  
  
Vern dropped him on his ass and kicked him in the gut a couple of times. All the while Chris laughed.   
  
“Did I hit a nerve, Verny, hmm?”  
  
“Fuck you, Chris.” Then he left him alone.  
  
“You wish, Nazi mother fucker.” Chris yelled, holding onto his stomach.   
  
If Vern heard him, he didn’t show it. He kept walking, ready to beat up any person who came near him.   
  
Chris continued to laugh but, slowly, it sank in. He was fucked as he rose from the ground. By messing with Vern, he earned himself a round trip ticket to exile. He should have known better not to mess with Vern. He should have pushed those  _feelings_  away. Instead, he became a bitch and wanted to teach Vern a lesson in the name of goddamn love. He fucked himself real good and there was nothing he could do about it.  
  
Chris saw Aaron playing basketball with the black gang. If his plan backfired, his ass was toast and one of them would die. He really fucked up, but that was life, as sad as it sounded.  
  
Vern didn’t show up during dinner time. Chris didn’t sit with the Aryans. Instead he went to his cell and waited until lockdown. The only company he had was the skin mags featuring Miss July. It wasn’t the same as flesh, but he had to distract himself from thinking of Vern.   
  
Just when he was about to finish, Vern appeared in their cell. Before he could say anything, Vern pulled him off his bunk and pushed him against the wall. He took off his pants and fucked him, long and hard. Chris mouthed the bitter-tasting wall as Vern held his waist, moving deeply inside him.   
  
It was punishment, not pleasure. He didn’t prepare Chris or anything. All he did was fuck him dry, senseless.   
  
Chris didn’t get a chance to release as Vern stopped and pushed his face inside the toilet. Chris felt the breath leave his body, and the dirty water entered his nose. He tried to raise his head, fight back, but Vern pressed him further into the water.   
  
When Chris was close to blacking out, Vern pulled him out of the toilet and fucked him again. It was a repeated cycle and lasted until the bell rang, when dinner ended. Chris lay on his bed while Vern sat at the edge. He smoked a cigarette, allowing the smoke to fill the room.  
  
“Don’t you ever fucking do it again. You hear me, Keller.” Vern nudged him with an elbow.  
  
“Whatever you say, Schillinger,” Chris responded. His head hurt. Body hurt. Ass hurt. Everything hurt. Looking at Vern, his eyes hurt.  
  
“Good.”  
  
The next time Chris saw Aaron was in the court yard. His body hung from a noose, dangling back and forth. The only visible thing he could see was Aaron's white eyes, everything else burnt to a crisp. This was part two of his punishment, a warning of never fuck with the enemy.   
  
There was no race war since Aaron had no alliance. No one cared. His death was never looked into. Instead Chris learned his lesson and let Vern take control. He became Vern’s other “girl.”  
  
  


**~†~**

  
  
  
Four months later, Chris Keller was paroled.   
  
No more Lardner.  
  
No more prison gangs.  
  
No more protection.  
  
No more Vern Schillinger.  
  
Yet, the feelings he had for Vern were still there. Despite the tension between them, Chris still longed for him. Even after their rough fucks, Aaron’s death, the Aryan brotherhood, and deaths of the  _enemy_ , Chris still wanted him. He knew Vern would never return those feelings but that’s how the game was played.   
  
Chris fucked up the game when he first admitted to those feelings. The first time he actually started to enjoy the sex between them. The first time he used Aaron as collateral. Always stay ahead of the game and Chris couldn’t do that right.  
  
Not anymore. Vern helped him grow up. He wasn’t about to be used ever again. He would be in control, no matter what price. He was determined. It was for real.  
  
Chris packed the few items he owned into his bag. Vern lay on the top bunk, staring at him through the mirror.  
  
“You’ll come back,” he taunted.  
  
Chris snickered.  
  
“And I hope you’re there with open arms, Verny,” Chris taunted back.   
  
“I might not be willing to protect you the next time… but you have one helluva mouth, kid.”  
  
Chris knew it was Vern's way of saying he would miss Chris too. Vern never was the type to show his true feelings when the time came. He was a snake after all, a sadist. Vern didn’t share those feelings but there was something between them. Why had he still protected and fucked him after Chris fucked Aaron? Why beat his ass up and still fuck him senseless? Vern wasn’t as complex as he made himself out to be.   
  
He may not have gotten what he wanted, but Vern wouldn't either.  
  
“Until next time?” Vern smiled friendly, holding out his hand.  
  
Chris shook it.  
  
“There won’t be a next time.”  
  
Chris didn't see Vern Schillinger again for many years. Those feelings for Vern faded away as Chris got married, divorced, jail time. Married, divorced, jail time. Married, divorced, jail time and drug addiction. Then married the same woman again, drug addiction, and having to deal with his feelings for men. Maybe Vern still had a mark on him after all.   
  
  


**~†~**

  
  
  
“Just break Beecher. If you do that for me, I will give you protection,” Vern concluded.  
  
Chris frowned.  
  
“What else?”  
  
“What else is there, Keller? You want to be my ‘girl’ again?” Vern teased.  
  
Chris chuckled. Vern was still full of shit.  
  
“I was never your ‘girl.’ I made you believe that.”  
  
Chris saw the smile vanish from Vern’s face. He almost laughed. Vern was still so egotistical. Whatever this Beecher person did messed Vern up big time. Payback was a bitch and came back doubled.  
  
“Are you going to do it or not, Keller?" Vern asked through his teeth.  
  
Chris shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you say, Vern.”  
  
He didn’t know what Vern said next. He didn’t know why he agreed to fuck with Beecher. Despite the anger, pain, humiliation, blood and closeness, Chris shouldn’t want anything to do with Vern Schillinger.   
  
Then again, parts of him never quit Vern. Love made people do the most fucked up things.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> New Notes:  
> After being ashamed of this story for two years, I decided it was time to reveal who wrote "Your Girl." It was me. I still don't know how I feel about the story. I want to pretend I didn't write it, but it is time to own up to it. This is published under "Old School Jones" as of 2015.
> 
> Old Notes:  
> First, I would like to thank trillingstar for running this gift exchange. You did a good job and I am honored to participate in this event. Also thank you for the SPAG read-through. I really appreciate so much! :) Second, I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible but there are some speculations in this story. This is not to say I ditched canon out the door, I just played with it. *g* Third, this is a dark story and this may not be suitable for sensitive adults (and children). If you read the warnings, you will know why. The characters do not represent my views (they just some… interesting characters). Fourth, I used the State of Virginia’s criminal laws to figure out the number of years Chris would receive for robbery. Since Oz/Lardner takes place somewhere in the USA. 
> 
> Thank you, giftee, for the prompt. It was fun to write it! And thank you everyone for taking the time to read this story and I hope you guys enjoy it.


End file.
